


Roses and Rainbows

by woollen_pharaohs



Category: Eureka
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woollen_pharaohs/pseuds/woollen_pharaohs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something strange has happened to the people of Eureka, and Fargo fears he’s in trouble with his boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses and Rainbows

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this crack fic came from how i perceive Nathan Stark to act in the show. Nathan acts so arrogant each time i see him on screen; i can’t help but laugh at him. I cannot take the man seriously, and so came this fic.

Fargo’s sitting cross legged at Nathan Stark’s desk, trying to access Stark’s emails so he can delete a rather embarrassing email he accidentally forwarded to his boss. He’s almost cracked the code when the elevator doors slide open, revealing his boss standing with his feet wide apart, hands clasped in front of his body.

“Dr. Stark! I didn’t expect you here so early!” Fargo says, quickly closing the open programs before leaping out of his boss’ chair.

Stark merely grins, and strides toward Fargo. The moment he starts moving, Fargo notices something very strange about his boss. He seemed to be glowing, but not in the figurative sense where one looks to be of good health, but in the literal sense. Stark’s skin was glowing a warm yellow, and it seemed to also be glittering with sparkles. Fargo couldn't help dropping his mouth, he felt like he was in an episode of Star Trek, and he was looking at a close up of a pretty woman who’s face has been blurred and looked shiny and doll-like. What’s more was that rose petals from an unseen source seemed to be fluttering through the air around Stark’s face, resting on his shoulders, trailing behind him as he made his way toward Fargo.

“Why… have you looked in a mirror today, Dr. Stark?” Fargo asks tentatively, clutching the edge of Stark’s desk as the man drew closer.

“I don’t need to look in a mirror to know I’m fabulous,” Stark says with a smile.

“Ummm…” Fargo says, still mesmerized by Stark’s appearance.

Even venturing closer to the glass walls behind Fargo, Stark doesn't seem to be fazed by his reflection, or perhaps he’s simply not aware of it. In fact, he doesn’t seem to be aware of anything else except Fargo, who he’s been eying with his predatory eyes since the moment the elevator doors slid open.

Fargo’s naturally feeling slightly uncomfortable with his boss’ strange advance, but he’s more concerned with the reasons behind why his boss looks like a god, and if it’s happening to anyone else in the town.

“I know those eyes, those analysing eyes,” Stark says as he reaches Fargo, stops close to him, “stop thinking too deeply boy, you’ll get wrinkles in your forehead.”

Fargo tries to edge away slightly, only to be caught in a soft embrace by his boss.

“Look, I’m sorry I was trying to hack into your emails, I was just umm… I was just..”

“Shh…” Stark says in a husky whisper, and dips down to press his lips against Fargo’s.

Fargo immediately pulls away, “What…. what?”

Stark combs his fingers through Fargo’s hair, massages his scalp his he speaks. “Don’t you feel this connection, this love between us?”

It’s at that moment Fargo seriously starts to consider that his boss had gone crazy, and he starts to panic, and wants to escape, and he can’t because Stark’s got him trapped in his arms. So he tries to wriggle downwards with a plan to escape through Stark’s widespread legs, but Stark holds him still.

“Don’t lie to me Fargo, I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Fargo furrows his brow, “and how do I look at you?” he says, mapping out ways to escape in his mind.

“You look at me with lust in your eyes, you yearn for me.”

“I do not,” Fargo says, cheeks blushing furiously, and he can’t help but look up into Stark’s eyes, gleaming, skin glowing. A rose petal falls off Stark’s shoulder and Fargo watches it float to the ground.

“Don’t think I don’t notice the way people look at me. Especially you, Fargo,” Stark says, nuzzling Fago’s head.

“Uh..” Fargo breathes, careful to keep his eyes off Stark.

“I don’t care about why anyone else looks at me, I only care about you. Why won’t you look at me Fargo.”

“This… is unreal. This, is not you, Dr. Stark.”

Stark backs off slightly, “what do you mean?”

“Have you seen yourself today?” Fargo gestures to the reflection in the glass wall, “I’m certain your behaviour is linked to your looks, there can’t be any other explanation. Why, today of all days, would you come to declare you like me too?”

Stark sounds mildly confused, a hitch in his voice, “I don’t look any different Fargo”

“You’re telling me you don’t see the roses falling about your shoulders, and the way your face is glowing, and the way your eyes sparkle?”

Stark grins, “I knew it,” and he swoops in and takes Fargo in his arms, slings him up in a (manly) hug.

In the commotion, Fargo can’t help but to grip onto Stark’s shoulders, look into his eyes and he’s locked. He’s made the contact again and now he’s being absorbed into Stark’s immense beauty. He can’t look away, and it’s kind of okay, because he’s reminded of all the times at work he’s tried to wistfully stare at his boss, from a distance, and pretend to be busy with something when Stark would catch his eye. In this moment, it was fine for Fargo to stare, to gawk at his boss’ handsome face, muscular body, the way he fits into suits so perfectly. He felt like a child, like he should be reprimanded for staring, but the person who should tell him not to stare was allowing him to, and Fargo couldn’t help but grin, warmth coiling in his belly.

Stark props Fargo up on his desk, wraps Fargo’s legs around his waist and presses their lips together. It’s still as shocking as the first kiss, but this time Fargo knows he’s allowed to let it happen, and therefore enjoy it. So he allows himself to drink in the taste of Stark, cinnamon, and the smell of roses and vanilla, and Stark’s insanely soft skin, unblemished, hands smoothly caressing Fargo’s neck, collarbone, arms, tips of his fingers. Fargo’s toes wriggle in delight when Stark drags Fargo’s t-shirt off and over his head, tosses it to the side. And Fargo’s not even worried about the wall behind them literally being glass, because he’s totally encompassed in the sensations of Nathan Stark.

Stark’s moaning gloriously as he presses his tongue into Fargo’s small mouth, working his tongue around Fargo’s, scraping the roof of Fargo’s mouth, sucking, mouthing. Fargo couldn’t prevent his hips bucking into Stark, who purrs in response. He hitches forward, revealing evidence of a very hard cock to Fargo upon impact. Fargo grins, and Stark begins kissing Fargo’s chin, neck, collarbone, stands on one knee to trails wet kisses down to his abdomen where he stops to unbuckle Fargo’s pants, ripping them off his skinny legs.

“Please, my panties too.” Fargo murmurs, fingers gripping onto the soft fabric of his boss’ suit.

“You are too cute Fargo.” Stark says, grabbing Fargo’s ass as he flings Fargo’s underpants off.

Stark stands straight and slings Fargo’s legs around him again, securing him in place. He presses his straining cock against Fargo’s and mewls at the friction. Fargo’s eyes roll back in his head when Stark encompasses Fargo’s cock in his hand, massaging, slowly pumping.

Before he kisses Fargo he tells him, “don’t come yet, don’t come.”

It’s hard for Fargo because it’s literally his wet dreams coming true, but he tries, he really does, and he holds Stark’s hand, forcing his pumping speed to slow down, to pace it out. Stark grins and growls as he nibbles one of Fargo’s ear, licks behind it, and he presses two fingers into Fargo’s mouth, lets Fargo lick it, suck it. Fargo claws at Stark’s back, soaking in the way Stark’s chest heaved at each suck he made on Stark’s fingers. Stark draws his fingers out and takes it to Fargo’s hole, where he presses in, hooks upward, drags out and pumps in again, lathering Fargo’s spit around. Fargo knew what was coming next, he’d read enough Buffy slash fiction to know it, and he braced himself.

Stark shimmied out of his own pants and lathered some of his own spit on his erect cock. He teethed Fargo’s lips as he gently pressed his cock inside Fargo. It’s painful, but also pleasurable, especially when Stark presses all the way in and bumps that point, that tender spot inside Fargo he didn’t even know could feel so good. Fargo moans, clings with dear life onto his boss’ frame as he’s slowly rammed into, body splitting apart from the inside out. And when he opens his eyes again, he sees this god before him, Stark, enveloped in light and enlightened with love and roses still falling about his face and shoulders and his hair swept in a gentle breeze. It’s almost hilarious, but he can’t laugh, he shouldn’t, he doesn’t have the breath for it anyway.

Instead he tries to focus on the way Stark drags his cock out, then pushes it in again, slowly, taunting him, “Go faster, Dr. Stark.”

“If I go faster, I’ll come too,”

Fargo closes his eyes and grins, reaches in close to whisper in Stark’s ear, “That’s the point isn’t it? So fuck me harder, faster.”

Stark releases a sigh that sounds like he’s been holding in the whole time, and he grabs a hold of Fargo’s thighs as he speeds up. He takes Fargo’s mouth in his, kisses him passionately, feels the way Fargo’s slight body writhes with each push in, sighs with each slide out. Fargo moans into Stark’s mouth and he tries to move his hips with Stark’s movements, encouraging faster movements, and they’re moving in unity and in that one last thrust, bump on his prostate, Fargo comes, and he groans loudly, and claws at Stark’s back, drawing closer to him. Stark feels the monkey grabbing for him, and a handful more of swift thrusts and he grunts, comes inside Fargo, bites his lip, careful not to moan too loudly.

Stark falls back in his chair, lifts Fargo’s naked body on top of him. Fargo cuddles him, legs hanging out the sides of the office chair. Fargo’s cock is tender still, but he feels safe resting in Stark’s arms, cock trapped between naked chest and clothed chest. Stark draws pictures on Fargo’s back with his fingers, listens to Fargo’s heart beat rapid in his throat. Stark’s seed is dribbling out of Fargo, but he doesn’t care, he’s happy in this moment, this aftersex embrace.

Fargo presses a kiss against Stark’s neck, who swallows. Fargo sits up, observes that the features he’d noted before, the floating roses, the glowing, was gone, and he was straddling Dr. Stark as he should appear.

“You’re back to normal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, all that weird stuff is gone.”

“I know what you mean,” Stark says, cupping Fargo’s head in his hands.

“Oh, you really don’t. But now that it’s gone, do you still… do you still like me?”

“You are actually the most adorable person, Fargo. This won’t happen only once, believe me. It’s going to happen a lot more often, and we’re both going to enjoy it as much as we did today, if not more. And I’m not going to abandon you like I did Allison.”

Fargo falls back into Stark’s embrace and says, “good, I’m glad.”

* * *

Meanwhile…

“Henry, I’ve been getting calls all morning from townfolk saying certain people have been acting really strange towards them. Some have even said that flowers float in the wind around people’s faces, and that they’re unusually more attractive than before. Don’t you think that sounds strange, like there’s some kind of … maybe, artifact related science stuff happening?” Jack Carter says as he enters Henry’s garage.

Henry turns around from his work desk and eyes carter. Upon turning around, it’s then that Carter realizes the exact thing people had been telling him all morning has happened to Henry too, and he can't look away.


End file.
